Would I describe a preacher,
. . . .
I would express him simple, grave, sincere;
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Would I describe a preacher,
. . . .
I would express him simple, grave, sincere;
In doctrine uncorrupt; in language plain,
And plain in manner; decent, solemn, chaste,
And natural in gesture; much impress'd
Himself, as conscious of his awful charge,
And anxious mainly that the flock he feeds
May feel it too; affectionate in look,
And tender in address, as well becomes
A messenger of grace to guilty men.

He that negotiates between God and man,
As God's ambassador, the grand concerns
Of judgment and of read more

He that negotiates between God and man,
As God's ambassador, the grand concerns
Of judgment and of mercy, should beware
Of lightness in his speech.

I met a preacher there I knew, and said,
Ill and overworked, how fare you in this scene?
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I met a preacher there I knew, and said,
Ill and overworked, how fare you in this scene?
Bravely! said he; for I of late have been
Much cheered with thoughts of Christ, the living bread.

A kick that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.

A kick that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.

For the preacher's merit or demerit,
It were to be wished that the flaws were fewer
In read more

For the preacher's merit or demerit,
It were to be wished that the flaws were fewer
In the earthen vessel, holding treasure,
But the main thing is, does it hold good measure
Heaven soon sets right all other matters!

There goes the parson, oh illustrious spark!
And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk.

There goes the parson, oh illustrious spark!
And there, scarce less illustrious, goes the clerk.

I preached as never sure to preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men.

I preached as never sure to preach again,
And as a dying man to dying men.

Alas for the unhappy man that is called to stand in the pulpit,
and not give the bread of read more

Alas for the unhappy man that is called to stand in the pulpit,
and not give the bread of life.

The priest he merry is, and blithe
Three-quarters of a year,
But oh! it cuts him like read more

The priest he merry is, and blithe
Three-quarters of a year,
But oh! it cuts him like a scythe
When tithing time draws near.